by Steve Feasey
‘I can do this,’ she said to herself.
She picked up the telephone by the side of the bed and hit the button to connect to reception.
‘Yes, Miss Tipsbury. How can I help you?’ The voice on the other end of the line was light and airy, and went some way to calming her.
‘I wonder if I could get some books?’ she said, fighting to keep her voice calm and steady.
‘That won’t be a problem at all. If you’d like to make a list of the authors you like, or what type of books you enjoy, I’ll send somebody up to your room to collect it. It shouldn’t take us any time at all to acquire them and have them brought up to you.’
‘I’d also like an MP3 player … and a laptop. You do have wireless broadband here, don’t you?’
‘Of course, madam.’
‘And can I rent DVDs for the player in here?’
‘We have an extensive list of films available for our guests to rent. In addition, we have the pay-per-view option that—’
‘I don’t suppose I could get a couple of games consoles and some games?’ she interrupted.
‘Just add it to your list, Miss Tipsbury.’
The receptionist acted as though this were the most normal request in the world. ‘Is there anything else?’
‘Yes, please. I’d like some breakfast sent up to my room. I’d like poached eggs on toast, some melon and strawberries, a jug of iced tea, and chocolate … I’d like lots of chocolate.’
‘I’ll have it brought up to your room immediately, madam.’
‘Afterwards I was thinking of using the gym.’
‘I think you’ll find that the health and fitness facilities on the fifth floor are very well equipped, Miss Tipsbury. We could arrange a personal trainer for you if you would like?’
‘Yes, that would be perfect. Thank you.’
She hung up and looked about her again. She’d call back in a minute and get some flowers delivered to the room; lots of them, like she’d seen in the hotel rooms of pop stars on the TV.
If she was going to be holed up like a prisoner in this place for a while, she might as well make the most of it.
19
‘The most practical solution is to kill the host body,’ Tom said between mouthfuls of an apple Danish that he was devouring. ‘We know that the Necrotroph will leave him for dead anyway.’ He pointed with the blunt end of the pastry in Lucien’s direction. ‘It’s the simplest, most expedient method available to us. You can’t deny that. For the first time, we know where that foul creature is and who it is inside. You told me yourself that nobody survives after the creature transfers to a new body, so Ronald Given is little more than a walking corpse. Now I like old Ron, don’t get me wrong, but if that thing is—’
‘Philippa did,’ Lucien said, stopping his friend mid-flow.
‘What?’
‘Philippa survived. Damaged, yes, but she survived.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘You know why we can’t do what you suggest, Tom,’ Lucien said, looking at his friend from beneath his eyebrows, a small smile playing at his lips.
‘I could. And knowing Ron as I do, I’d bet my back teeth that he’d want me to. I’d want you to do it to me if that thing had possessed my body—’
Lucien raised a hand, cutting off his friend. ‘You know that I have vowed never to take another innocent human life. I cannot, and will not, destroy what little chance this unfortunate man has of surviving this ordeal for the sake of … convenience. He is already the victim in this affair, and yes, his chances of survival are negligible, but his death will not be at our hands. We will do everything we can to help Mr Given to survive this, regardless of how beneficial his death might be to us at the moment.’
Tom took a gulp of tea from his mug and ran his hand over his short cropped hair. When he looked up again, he let out a long sigh. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ He placed the hot drink on top of the sideboard beside him. ‘It’s just that we have been trying to find this bloody Necrotroph for so long now, and when we do finally find it we’re forced to wait around. I feel that we should be doing something.’
Lucien swung around in his seat and looked out of the window to his left, choosing his words with care, knowing why the Irishman was behaving in this way. ‘You must stop blaming yourself, Tom. It was not your fault that the Necrotroph made its way into our organization, and you were not to blame for Alexa’s abduction. Neither was the damage that has been done to Philippa, nor the death of her father, your doing. My brother, Caliban, is to blame for all of this, not you.’
The Irishman looked down at his feet, and when he spoke again it was in a low voice. ‘I should have known.’
‘How?’
‘For crying out loud, Lucien, I’m supposed to be the head of security for this place. You placed your faith in me and my team to keep this building and the people in it safe, and I allowed that creature to just waltz in here and—’
There was a small cough from the doorway and they both turned around to see Philippa Tipsbury’s doppelganger standing there looking back at them.
‘It’s what they do,’ the demon said in the girl’s voice. ‘They’re so very hard to spot. Plus they’re pitiless in who they use to achieve any goal that they have. That is why they have survived for so long.’ The girl smiled in a way that sent a cold shiver down Tom’s spine. ‘But this one’s time is up. This one has been careless and shown us its hand.’ The demon gave them both a little nod before stepping into the room to stand by Tom’s side. The grim and determined look set into the teenage girl’s features looked out of place and Tom had to remind himself for the umpteenth time that the girl standing next to him was not a girl at all.
‘My apologies for the interruption,’ the nether-creature said. ‘I did not intend to eavesdrop on your conversation. I merely came to inform you that the Necrotroph is on the move. Alexa is tracking the host body from next door and—’
‘She needs to be careful not to let it become aware that it’s being followed,’ Tom said, talking across the creature.
‘She knows that,’ the Ashnon answered, smiling back at the Irishman. ‘She’s using a magic spell that I have suggested to her. It’s like a form of remote viewing, allowing her to watch the car that the host is driving. We discussed this at length, and despite it being a rather cumbersome method, it is the one that gives us the biggest chance of remaining undetected. For added safety, one of Lucien’s people is following in a car.’ The demon held up its hand, cutting off another interruption that Tom was about to make. ‘Yes, they are being extremely careful not to be spotted. They are just there for insurance, in case Alexa should somehow lose contact. It’s like a police operation: Alexa is the “eye in the sky” keeping the driver in touch with everything that she sees.’
‘Well, you seem to have everything in hand,’ Tom said, the unmistakably peeved tone in his voice raising a small, guarded smile to Lucien’s lips.
‘I think we should go and see how Alexa is getting on,’ the vampire said, standing up and coming around the desk to his friend. He placed a perfectly manicured hand around the Irishman’s shoulders and gently steered him towards the door. ‘Tom, is there any chance that I could trouble you to make me one of your fabulous cups of tea?’
Alexa sat stiffly in the chair, her spine perfectly straight as if some wooden board had been placed down the back of the black and grey waistcoat that she wore over her T-shirt. Tom bent forward and placed a cup on the table in front of her, but one look at the girl told him that she was completely unaware of his presence. Her eyes had taken on an eerie silvered sheen giving them a strangely insect-like appearance, and they stared off unblinkingly into the distance.
‘Is she … OK?’ Tom asked in a hushed tone, looking at the girl with concern. ‘She looks like some kind of bloody zombie or something.’
‘I can hear you, Tom,’ Alexa said, although there was no hint of emotion in her voice – the words coming out in one long monosyllabic drone.
>
‘She has to go into that state for the spell,’ the Ashnon said from the couch on the other side of the room. The demon was lounging back against the pillows and leafing its way through a celebrity magazine. ‘Alexa is perfectly safe, but she is having to work incredibly hard at the moment.’ The demon looked up, casting its eyes in Lucien’s direction. ‘I’m impressed. She is turning into a very talented sorceress. She reminds me of her mother.’
There was a stillness in the room. The demon looked up to find the vampire staring back at it. It flicked its eyes in Alexa’s direction.
‘When was the last time you saw Gwendolin?’ the Ashnon asked Lucien. ‘It’s just that the last time that I was in the Netherworld there was talk that—’
‘There is always talk in the Netherworld,’ Lucien replied. ‘Nether-creatures like nothing more than to gossip and speculate. The clever ones are those that know when to hold their tongue. Those that don’t, often find that they no longer have a tongue to hold.’
The vampire’s eyes shone for a second, burning with a ferocity that sent a chill running up Tom’s spine as he looked between the two of them.
The Ashnon swallowed loudly, and a nervous smile flickered across its lips. It looked down into its lap at the magazine again, suddenly finding something fascinating to fix its eyes upon. ‘I meant no offence, Lucien. Forgive me.’
‘It’s coming here,’ Alexa said into the empty space ahead of her. ‘The Necrotroph is heading straight this way.’
20
Jurgen paced the floor in front of the large stonework fireplace that dominated the main living area of the cabin. Marcus sat in a fireside chair and watched him, careful not to stare too openly at the pack Alpha and run the risk of Jurgen interpreting it as some kind of open challenge.
For the last few months the pack had witnessed Jurgen change into the edgy, paranoid and volatile person that stood before him now, and Marcus knew that the tiniest thing could send him hurtling into a terrible rage. These rages had escalated too, and the violence that accompanied them was getting too much for everyone to bear.
Marcus had no idea why he had been summoned, and knew better than to ask. Past experience had taught him that it was better to just sit and wait until Jurgen was ready.
They’d arrived back at the lake after leaving the new boy at his uncle’s house. Marcus had no sooner showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes than his walkie-talkie had squawked: Jurgen informing him that he wanted to see him in his cabin immediately. The second-in-command – the Beta – had wanted nothing more than to curl up on his bed and sleep, but he’d gone over, knowing from the sound of Jurgen’s voice that whatever it was that he was being called for, it wasn’t going to be good.
He’d entered the simple accommodation to find Jurgen standing alone in front of the unlit fire as if he had taken up the position for dramatic effect. Marcus was greeted with a nod of the head in the direction of a chair, and obediently took up his position. That had been a little over fifteen minutes ago, and not a word had been uttered between the two of them since. Jurgen had taken up an incessant pacing, his heavy boots marking a monotonous bass beat as they crossed the hearth, leaving Marcus to simply sit and wait.
Eventually Jurgen stopped. Placing a forearm on top of the mantelpiece, he turned round to look at his deputy, a frown beetling his brow, as if he’d forgotten that he’d summoned Marcus and was surprised to find him there. The look of confusion disappeared, replaced by the familiar, hostile glare that always seemed to adorn Jurgen’s features these days.
‘What do you make of him?’ Jurgen finally said, breaking the silence.
‘Who?’
Jurgen waited, the small muscles at the sides of his jaw bunching up as he ground his teeth in impatience.
‘The new guy?’ Marcus added.
Jurgen glared back at the other man.
‘He seems OK. Why?’ Marcus glanced at Jurgen’s hands as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched them into fists.
‘I don’t think he is OK. There’s something not right about him. Something that he’s not telling us.’ Jurgen turned to gaze into the ashes of the dead fire, as if the answers he sought might somehow be contained therein.
Tephromancy, Marcus thought. That was the name for divination through ashes: tephromancy. He chastised himself for letting his mind wander – it wouldn’t pay to drop his guard when Jurgen was in this kind of mood. He wondered what it was that had set the Alpha against the newcomer so quickly. He himself thought that the kid had seemed fine, but it wouldn’t pay to disagree with Jurgen. Then again, if he said nothing the situation was apt to escalate out of all proportions.
‘What do you base these … feelings on?’ Marcus asked slowly.
Jurgen turned and looked down at his second-in-command. His eyes scanned the other’s face before a small smile crept into the edges of his mouth.
‘He’s keeping something hidden from us.’
‘He’s just a kid, Jurgen. Mixed up and afraid like the rest of us were when we were his age and found out what we’d become – what we’d inherited from our fathers.’
The Alpha returned his attention to the ashes. ‘How did you feel the first time that you Changed with the pack?’ he said. ‘I mean, how did it feel to know that you could be the wolf that lay dormant inside of you when you wanted to? To truly experience what it was like to be a werewolf for the first time?’
Marcus considered the question. ‘It felt incredible,’ he said, remembering. ‘Exhilarating and enlivening and breathtaking and—’
‘Did you see him when we Changed in the woods this morning? Did you look at him at all?’ Jurgen turned to face the other man.
Marcus shook his head.
The Alpha leaned forward, bending at the waist so that his face was no more than a hand’s width away from Marcus’s. ‘I did,’ he said. ‘I was watching him. I always watch them the first time. I like to see their reaction when they first realize what is happening to them; that dawning realization followed by the ecstasy of the moment. Do you remember the first time Ella Changed? The way that she sprang around for an age before sitting back on her haunches and howling with the joy of it?’
Marcus smiled at the memory.
‘This kid did nothing.’ Jurgen straightened up and wandered over to the window, replaying the scene in his head. ‘He Changed as if nothing at all had happened. He just took in his surroundings and then just looked at the rest of us, waiting to see what was going to happen next. It was like he’d done it a thousand times before. Water off a duck’s back. Piece of cake.’
‘Are you sure that you’re not just imagining that? Different people react in different ways, and—’
‘Yes, I am sure that I am not just imagining it, Marcus!’ He crossed the room in a beat, looming over the chair, so that he stood before Marcus, his fists clenched again. This time Marcus had to force himself to maintain eye contact, trying not to back down too easily in the face of this aggression. Eventually Jurgen pulled back and resumed his position in front of the fire.
‘There’s something up with that kid, I tell you.’
‘OK, Jurgen. What do you want to do?’
Marcus waited, watching the Alpha’s face lose the red flush that it had filled with seconds before.
Jurgen nodded to himself. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils, holding it for a second. ‘Go fetch Luke. Bring him here. We’re going on a little trip.’
Marcus reluctantly stood up. ‘Where are we going?’
The smile on Jurgen’s face was unsettling. ‘Don’t bring Ella,’ he said by way of an answer.
21
Trey lifted the large, weed-filled terracotta pot with one hand while his fingers blindly groped in the dirt underneath until they came to rest on the key. His uncle had had the forethought to tell his nephew where he kept the spare key, and Trey was glad to find that it was still there. Letting himself into the house, he closed the door as quietly as possible behind him, holding the latch in
his fingers and leaning his weight into the wood so that it engaged silently with the frame. He needn’t have bothered. Billy came flying down the hallway, his claws skittering on the wooden surface, and he gave Trey a short bark of welcome. The teenager couldn’t help but smile down at the little tattletale, and bent down to give the dog’s ears a brief rub.
‘Shh, Billy, there’s a good boy.’
He couldn’t hear his uncle. There was a perfect silence in the house, and Trey walked up the short hall, poking his head around the door to find that the living room was empty. He thought for a second, then tiptoed over to the far wall, carefully turned the door handle and peered through into the back room. His uncle was asleep on the floor of the cage. He was curled up on the mattress on the floor, and his snores bounced back off the bare walls, filling the room. Trey backed out, pulling the door shut behind him, pleased that he did not have to face his uncle right away.
He went back down the hallway and entered the room that had been offered to him as a bedroom during his stay. It was little more than a repository for his uncle’s junk. Great sprawling heaps of what looked to Trey like jumble covered almost every inch of floor space.
On his first evening in the house, Uncle Frank had led him to the room, opening the door and waving his hand in the general direction of the rear wall.
‘There’s an old army camp bed in there somewhere,’ he’d said, ‘I have no idea how the thing goes together any more, but knock yourself out, kid.’ He’d backed out, leaving Trey the task of finding the bed, and the even more difficult job of trying to clear a space in which to put it.
The teenager walked over to the bed now and lowered himself on to the creaking frame. He pulled an old blanket up around him to keep the cold air from his flesh, and thought about everything that had happened. He had it in his mind to sleep. Despite everything that had happened to him this morning, all he wanted right now was to curl up under the covers and sleep.
His head simply had too many thoughts and emotions jostling and elbowing at each other, and he found it almost impossible to think clearly. He couldn’t shake the feeling of elation that he’d got when he’d been running with the pack – that feeling that they were one huge organism, greater than the sum of their parts. But he also knew that he had lost most of his humanity. He’d been utterly animalistic; a throwback to the way that mankind must have been when men were both hunter and hunted; relying on their instincts and senses to stay alive. He remembered how his heart had sunk as they’d emerged from the woods and he’d caught sight of this house again, how Ella had come over to him, rubbing her flank against his and reassuring him that everything was going to be all right. He inhaled, realizing that he could still smell her scent on him.
